White Christmas
by ShatteredLyre
Summary: --Christmas story-- Jeanne is once again left alone by her chronically missing husband Tao Ren and expects to celebrate yet another holiday by herself with fine wine and Italian opera. Well, that is, until Lyserg came along.


dedicated to **tfg**

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"Jeanne?" Lyserg stepped through the threshold into Marco's seemingly abandoned suite. "Jeanne?" He strained his ears to see if he could hear anything. "What the—"

"Ah, Lyserg!" he heard the coo come from the living room.

"Er, Jeanne?" Lyserg stared at the usually composed and calm noble lady (who he had been harboring very strong and acute feelings for….oh, seven years now, give or take). Except this time, Jeanne's face was flushed and bright and she was swaying back and forth on the coffee table Marco had bought half a year ago (Lyserg would know considering that Marco had forced him to lug it up all seventeen flights of stairs into the D'Fer residence and assemble it all in one day). "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?" she cried tragically. "I'm celebrating because…" She stepped off the table and in one fell swoop, grabbed the calendar off the wall and shoved it at him. "Look what day it is."

"It says April 23rd."

Jeanne stared at the calendar in confusion. "It's lying," she whispered as if it was the biggest secret in the world.

Lyserg laughed. "No, you probably just haven't been keeping up to date with the calendar. It should say…" He ripped off a few dozen of the pages until he reached December 24th. "That today is Christmas Eve."

She bobbed her head up and down furiously. "Yes. Yes, it is." She brought the wine glass to her lips so that when she spoke, her voice sounded hollow. "That's why I was celebrating."

"With a fine Pinot Noir, from the looks of it." He grabbed the nearly empty bottle from the table and looked at the label. "1949. Not bad, not bad." He set the dark green wine glass bottle back down. "But I think that you've had enough to drink for one night."

She made a muffled noise of protest when he plucked the glass from her fingers. "But…mah."

"Yes, I know. What were you doing anyways?"

"Celebrating like I have for the past three years every Christmas. By myself with fine wine and Andrea."

Lyserg looked around the room but failed to find any other presence of life in it aside from himself, Jeanne, and whatever was fermenting in the wine bottle. "Who's Andrea?"

"Andrea Bocelli, of course," she stated as if _everyone_ should have known that.

"The Italian opera singer?"

She nodded and pointed at the record player that was currently projecting one of the internationally known singer's songs.

"I'm ever so classy. I don't do 'plastered' or 'wasted.' If I am going to be inebriated," she hiccupped. "I'm going to do it in style. Nothing like the holidays, celebrating with fine wine, Italian opera and…you." She slumped over.

"Me?"

"Yes. There's no one here. Ever. During the holidays, I mean." She paused, looking as if she was about to retch but decided against it.

"Where's Ren?"

"Who?" She looked at him desperately.

"Your…husband…?" Lyserg asked slowly.

"Oh…Oh, yes, I remember now. Well, he's gone on business or something or other. Or with his friends like he always is…" She smacked her forehead but, considering she had consumed an entire bottle of wine by herself, missed and ended up hitting the wall behind her with her hand. "Ow…"

Lyserg smiled sadly and took her hand in his, rubbing it to ward off the impending pain. "And he's just been leaving you here by yourself during the holidays?"

"Yes…I almost forget sometimes that he's my husband…or that he exists. My chronically missing spouse. And he never brings me along wherever he goes. Of course, the first year of our marriage, he would try. It was obvious he did. I know he did. He knows he did. But everyone…" She wagged a finger at him shakily. "And I mean _everyone_ could tell that I was always out of place. So I don't blame him. I don't mind though. I like wine. And I like Andrea a lot. And I like my solitude." She sighed. "How beautifully tragic. My life, I mean."

He released her hand (almost regretfully). "It sounds like you do mind though. Where's the little monster?" he asked teasingly.

"You mean Men? Ah, he's right there, in his playpen." Jeanne went over and picked her son up in her arms. "Hello, baby," she said in a sing-song voice.

Lyserg watched her sadly. She looked like a child holding another child. Everyone, and Lyserg meant _everyone_, could tell that she was by no means ready or prepared to have or be taking care of Men. Or be married.

She kissed her son's cheek noisily, causing Men to paw at the spot his mother had smooched in an effort to rub off the remnants of the wine her lips had left. "Ah, hold him, will you? I think that I left the stove on." She shoved Men into Lyserg's arms as she staggered away.

Lyserg sat down and placed Men next to him on the sofa. "Your mother is a very interesting person…" he sighed.

"Hmph" was the only response he was graced with from the child.

"You know, I've been in love with her for more than seven years."

"Hmph." Now Men had crossed his tiny arms in front of him.

"Your father ever so graciously snatched her away from the rest of the world when he married her."

"Dummy," Men grumbled.

"It appears I was mistaken," Jeanne said triumphantly. "Oof." She tripped over a carelessly discarded book that she probably had sobbed over earlier (if Lyserg knew anything about her drunken behavior).

He effortlessly caught her and carried her back to the couch. "You should really rest, Jeanne."

"I know." They sat like that for a few minutes, Jeanne wrapped up in Lyserg's arms as they both sat on the sofa next to Men. "Lyserg, am I a mess?"

"No, you're not."

"I think I am."

"You're not."

"I love you."

Lyserg closed his eyes. "No…you don't."

"I do!" She sat upright on the sofa in drunken, indignant anger. "I do, I do, I do."

"That's just the alcohol talking, Jeanne."

"I'm tired of people telling me what I mean and don't mean," she sighed.

"Jeanne…please." Lyserg clenched his fists as the girl had no idea how much she was hurting him with her slurred words.

"Lyserg, I've loved you every second of every day of every year that I've known you." She stared at him dead into his eyes with all the fervor any person could muster.

"Jeanne…" Lyserg's heart leapt and he returned the confession.

Well, he probably would've if she didn't slump back down into a drunken heap of Jeanne D'Fer-Tao, reminding him that she was, in fact, plastered.

A little bit later, he was able to get Jeanne back up onto the couch and lying down in a semblance of rest. "I'm sorry…See, I am a mess."

"Nah, you're not. Just…get some sleep."

"Are you going to leave when I'm sleeping?" she asked quietly.

"Not unless you want me to," he said simply.

"Please stay." She stared up at the ceiling. "You know what I've always wanted for Christmas?"

"An effective remedy for a hangover?" he asked innocently.

The corners of her mouth tugged up into a smile and her eyes blinked dreamily. "No, though that would be next on my list. I've always wanted to see the snow fall the minute it hits midnight on Christmas Eve. It…It would be just like those Christmases I spent growing up at the orphanage in France. It would snow…every…single Christmas there. And I remember…dreaming that a family would arrive and adopt me on one of those snowy Christmases." Jeanne laughed. "Marco adopted me in the dead heat of summer."

"So a white Christmas?"

She nodded. "But before I married Ren I always was on the plane, asleep going to France or Japan or some country with Marco for X-LAWS business on Christmas Eve. And for the past three years I…well, as you can see, I usually pass out on the floor before midnight comes around." She closed her eyes. "Ah, well, one can dream…"

Lyserg checked his watch. "Perhaps you don't need to dream anymore…" He carried her bridal style to the window, Men tottering after them. "Merry Christmas, Jeanne." At that second the antique grandfather clock the Tao family had given Jeanne and Ren as a wedding present went off, indicating that it was midnight.

"It's beautiful…" She tightened her grip around his neck. "Thank you, Lyserg." Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Jeanne, why are you crying?"

She shook her head and smiled. "For the first time, someone listened to…to what I wanted…"

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**A/N**: an intoxicated Jeanne is always fun to imagine. and I kept the relationships canon, Tao Men and all, so THERE! HAPPY HOLIDAYS! And be sure to check out my other Christmas ficlet _Carol of the Bells_ and my other story _Critical Condition_. i would **love** to hear what you think about this so don't forget to leave a review ;)


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